BY DEATH BELEAGUERED.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume X, Issue 13, 1 April 1893, Page 304

BY DEATH BELEAGUERED.

BY

ALICE KENNY

CHAPTER 111. And death and destruction were left wherever their feet went by. And the smoke from ruined homesteads darkened the summer sky. He felt the breath of the morning breeze Blowing over the m» adows brown. And one was safe and asleep in his bed Who would that day be lying dead. Alfred walked home that night in a state of exalted and indescribable bliss, and the burden of his thoughts was ‘she loves me.’ When he reached home he found a note from liis partner saying that he was spending the night at so-and-so’s. He laughed as he read it. ‘ Tom’s gone after his girl,’ he said, ‘ Well, I wish him luck like mine.’ He was wakeful that night, and having no disposition to go to bed, he sat down by his open window and looked out into the night—the peaceful, fragrant night. The wind stole softly in at the window and flickered the candle where it stood. Alfred laid his arm on the sill, and leaned his head upon it, ‘ This is a first-rate attitude to think in,’ he said, and proved it by falling asleep where he sat. The candle leaped up and then sank low, burned blue for a moment and then expired. What was that? Alfred was sitting upright in his chair, wideawake. He was in utter darkness. What was that found which had awakened him so suddenly? Without knowing why he was convinced that it was a shot-con-vinced beyond a doubt. He sprang up and leaned out of the window. To his astonishment he found that the night was nearly gone. A faint streak of light gleamed in the eastern sky, the stars were growing pale, and everything without looked grey and unfamiliar in the uncanny dawn light, and the air that rustled softly through the trees had a sweet damp smell. Though he listened several minutes everything was silent and still. ‘I am certain it was a shot,’ he said to himself, and his thoughts Hew instantly to the Hauhaus, but he laughed at his own fears and murmured ‘ Impossible.’ Nevertheless he felt uneasy, and kept returning to the thought : ‘ Supposing by any chance they did come swooping down on the settlement, just in the grey light like this, what chance would the surprised, half armed settlers stand for life? None at all.’ And then bethought of Damaris, and it seemed to dawn upon him suddenly how ill-defended they were, and how rashly the settlers were trusting to it being an idle threat that Te Kooti would come for util when the crops were in. ‘ It can do no harm to go and have a look round,’ he said to himself, and he put on his hat and took down his gun from its place above the bed Whistling softly to himself, he stepped out into the grey dawn, and closing the gate behind him, walked briskly down towards the river. He looked back once at the little homestead standing so peacefully among its trees, little guessing that when next he crossed the threshold it would be with the sky overhead and charred ruins for walls and floor. As he leached the river bank he heard again the sound of a musket, clear and sharp, followed after a moment’s pause by another and another. He stood listening. ' That’s over at Matawheio,’ he said. ‘ 1 wonder what’s up.’ He did not wonder long, for as he stood undecided a figure came running towards him, indistinct in the half light. In another moment he saw that it was a lad. • Hullo, there !’ he shouted, and at his voice the boy uttered a cry and ran to him. ‘ What’s the matter?’ cried Alfred, catching him by the arm. The boy, whom he recognised as a little fellow employed by one of the settlers, clung to him with both hands, trembling and gasping for bieath. ‘What’s wrong? What on earth is the matter?’ cried Alfred, alarmed. ‘ The Hauhaus ! the Hauhaus !’ gasped the boy. ‘The Hauhaus ! Where?’ cried Alfred. ‘Up there! At the Major’s! They’ve killed ’em all,’ sobbed the boy. ‘ I ran away and they didn’t see me. They’ve killed the Major ! Oh ! don’t let them get me.’ ‘Up there? Killed Major Biggs? Oh! it can’t be true !’ • It is,’ cried the terrified boy, ‘ they’ve killed Mrs Biggs too They’re killing all the people Hark! Oh! listen.’ Terribly distinct the sound of filing came to their ears, and above the trees a dark wreath of smoke was mounting, mounting into the pale grey sky, as though it would tell of the fearful deeds that night bad seen. Alfred turned towards the boy and caught his hand. ‘Come with me,’ he said, and dashed up towards Mr Luttrell’s house. It was not far distant, but the few yards I etween it and the river seemed trebly lengthened then. How he ran, and ah ! how changed that still grey dawning was already. The waking breeze that fanned his face brought a faint odour of smoke to him, and still that fatal Citing went on. He threw open the gaiden gate and sped up the path to the house. The door was locked. He flung himself against it, and kicked and hammered with all his might. •Mr Luttrell! Harry !’he shouted. ‘Oh, for Heaven’s sake, wake !’ In another moment a light flashed in the house, and heavy footsteps came down the passage, echoing strangely at that si'ent hour. He heard the key grate in the lock, and the door was opened lather cautiously. ‘ It's only me,' cried Alfred, and as he spoke Mr Luttrell appeared on the threshold with a revolver in his hand. Hairy stood immediately behind him, similarly armed, anil holding a candle. Neither were fully dressed, and both looked considerably alarmed. • What on eaith is the matter?' ciied Mr Luttiell.

‘The Hauhaus—’ cried Alfied, drawing his breath in with a gasp— • the Hauhaus have come 1’

‘ What ! what !’ exclaimed Harry grasping him by the arm, ‘ Alfred, it’s impossible.’ •It’s impossible,’ echoed his brother. ‘ It’s the truth—the truth,’ cried Alfred in an agonised voice. ‘ There is not a moment to spare. Get them all out as fast as you can. They are murdeiing all the settlers, and burning Look there ! My mate’s over there. Oh ! poor old Tom. He went to see his sweetheart.’ After the first shock Mr Luttrell was very cool and quiet. ‘The children, Harry. For God’s sake hurry. Bring them all out here.’

‘ Hugh, what is it?’ cried his wife in a frightened voice, and he hurried off to her.

Damaris was awakened by the loud voices, and hurriedly dressing she peeped into the passage with flushed cheeks and dishevelled hair. She heard Hugh speaking rapidly, and somewhere one of the children crying. The front door was open, and as she stepped into the passage to her surprise she saw Alfred standing in it with his musket in bis hand. He did not hear her light step, and started as she laid her hand upon his arm. • Alfred,’ she said, quickly, • is anything the matter ?’ He threw his arm around her as though to protect her, and answered, ‘ Dearest, the worst that can happen is the matter. Hark ! and look where the smoke is rising. God help them over there !’ Damaris understood in a moment. She gave a startled cry and her face grew as pale as death, but in a second the colour rushed back. ‘ The Maoris !’ she cried, ‘ then, oh, why is this delay ? We must escape ; and, oh, the poor people ; can’t we help them ?’ She flew into the house calling on every one to wake. She roused the servant gii 1, and ran to Kobin’s room. The boy was sleeping heavily, but she caught him by the shoulders and shook him, crying, ‘ Kobin ! Kobin, dear, wake up.’ Kobin sprang up. ‘ What, is it time to get up, aunt ?’ he asked quietly. ‘ Yes, Kobin, make baste ! The Hauhaus have come. Oh, Kobin, make haste, dear !’ she cried, wringing her hands. Harry’s was a haider task, to wake those poor little innocent sleepers and to wake them to such a scene of confusion and terror. He ctffried and led three sobbing, murmuring little things out to the verandah. They were all there save Mr Luttrell and his wife and the baby, watching the smoke with terror-stricken eyes and clinging to one another. In a moment the others joined them, Mrs Luttrell dinging to her husband, and the baby wailing piteously. ‘ Are all here ?’ he asked, looking round, and Harry answered, ‘ Yes !’ Mr Luttrell took the baby in his arms, and said, ‘ Keep up your courage all and come.’ They carried the children between them and hastened across the garden and through the gate that faced the river, Harry leading the way with little Jessie in his arms, her hot hands clasped about his neck. Her head lay on his shoulder, and she was sleeping. After the first startled waking she had no fear, for were not Uncle Harry’s arms around her. The servant girl was sobbing and crying with terror even as they fled, and the baby moaned and shivered in its father’s arms and every sob went to his heart. ‘God help me to save them ail !’ he prayed, as he looked at his wife, whose eyes were wide with dumb terror. They went down the river to the lower ford, which was nearer the Wairoa track, and fled away, urged forward by the shots that still continued behind them—the death knell of the unhappy settlers, who but a few hours before had been sleeping, unconscious of the impending danger and death. They crossed the ford, but had not gone far, when Alfred stopped suddenly, and cried : ‘ God forgive us ! We have left the others to be murdered in their beds. We must warn them ; it’s not too late. God forgive us ! they have wives and children too.' He turned back as he spoke, and Damaris sprang to his side. ‘ Alfred,’ she said, with quivering lips. He caught her in his arms and kissed her. ‘My darling, I must, ’ he said, and releasing her he ran back to the ford. When Harry saw him he turned back too, and put Jessie into Damaris’s arms. ‘ I will go too,’ he said, with quiet determination, ‘ Push on to Te Wairoa, Hugh, Goodbye.’ He was gone, swiftly after Alfred, and Jessie stretched her little hands to his retreating figure, crying, ‘Come back, Uncle Harry, come back to me.’ In a few strides he caught up to Alfred. ‘Go back,’ said Alfred, without pausing, but Harry seized him by the arm. ‘No you must go back,’ he said. •Go back Alfred ! Go back. Hugh needs help ; it’s no use both of us risking our lives. ’ ‘ No, no, I’m resolved to go on.’ ‘Soam I. This is my duty.’ ‘No, mine, Hariy.’ ‘ You’re life’s more precious than mine now, Alfred. You will break her heart.’ He groaned, and Harry said quickly, ‘Go back ; for her sake you ought.’ ‘ No,’ said Alfred, firmly, ‘ I can’t. We will go together, Harry, and do what we can.’ And so they went back to warn their neighbours, who> forgotten in their terrified flight, had been left to the awfu l fate which had already overtaken so many. A few moments’ brisk running brought them back to the houses, and they went from door to door sounding an alarm. Jack Deeble’s house was the most distant, and thither Harry ran. ‘Jack ! Jack !’ he cried, and struck on the door. Instantly, before he vould get bis breath to shout again, the little window above his head was thrown open, and the muzzle of a gun appeared.

Who’s that?’ said Jack with an oath. * It’s I, Harry Luttrell. The settlers are being murdered all round. If yon want to save your wife and children, man, you must make haste.’ The musket disappeared, and in another minute Jack stood at the door, fully dressed, and chewing tobacco as usual. ‘ The Hauhaus !’ cried Harry. ■ Fetch your wife and children. Jack.' ‘ The Hauhaus !’ echoed Jack, glancing sharply round. * Yes ; my brother and all of them are off to Wairoa. Jack, there’s no time to lose. All of the others are going over the ford, but I fear Major Biggs and all up that way are past help.’ *My God ! my God !* said Jack Deeble, and he dashed into the house again. In a little while he reappeared with his wife and two children. * Come Jack,’ said Harry, ‘ this way, the Toanga ford.’ When they reached it, they found all the people crowding across it in terrified haste. Alfred was standing there musket in hand. ‘Old fellow,’ said Harry, going up to him, ‘are you going with them ? I can’t bear to go away without doing something to save some of them. Will anyone come with me and try to save some of the people inland ?' ‘ I will,’ said Alfred unhesitatingly, and Jack Deeble said • Wait a minute.’ He took his wife and children across the river, and leaving them in the charge of one of the other fugitives, came back. ‘ I’m cornin’ with you,’ he said briefly, ‘and if you will follow me I’ll take you a shorter and safer cut to Smith’s and Jones's farms, and McConnell’s. Them’s the nearest.’ ‘ Come on,’ said Harry, and Jack led them back past his house, and through some ti-tree by a narrow beaten path, all damp and edged with moss. ‘ This is the way 1 always goes to Smith’s,’ said Jack, and they followed him silently and watchfully across a narrow swamp edged with tall flax, and over severe! paddocks, some cultivated and some overgrown with fein and ti-tree scrub, and presently came in sight of the three houses, standing in the midst of cleared land, and young orchards all in blossom. There was not a sign or sound of life about them. Harry was the foremost, and calling to his companions, ‘ Go on to Smith’s and McConnell’s, I'll look here,’ he ran through the gate of the nearest house, and up the path that led to the door. The front door was wide open, and he stepped back with a ciy of horror. ‘ Too late !’ There was a dark red stain upon the step, and just within lay a woman and a child, face lownwaid, and terribly mutilated. He staggered back and put his hands over his face, sick and faint for a moment with the horror of it, but he did not forget what be had come todo, and turningawayfrom that awful sight, he ran round to the back, shuddering at what be might see there. The back door, too, was open, and stepping inside, he cried, at first in a hoarse whisper, and then louder : ‘ls there anyone here? We’ve come to help you ! Is anyone here ?’ His voice came back to him with a faint echo, but there was no other answer. Pushing open an inner door, he saw the unfortunateowner of the house lying tomahawked on the floor. He turned away with a groan, right glad to leave that house of death, and met Alfred and Jack just returning from Smith’s and McConnell’s. The face of the former was deadly pale. He seized Harry’s arm and said huskily, ‘ Oh, Harry, it’s awful—awful ! To think that we could sleep while this devil’s work was going on ! They are all dead—all dead ! Harry, it was piteous to see her, McConnell’s wife, lying with her hands spread over her baby, as if to save it, both dead and cold.’ ‘We can’t do much more,’ said Jack Deeble. ‘ They must have passed here first, and then gone on to Matawhero, meaning to take us by the river there last. There are a couple of chaps living away over there just out of sight, but there ain’t much chance of them having escaped.’ ‘ Let us go at any rate,' said Harry. •We ought not to lose a chance.’ They raced across the rough ground together. ‘ They have been here,’ said Jack, for as they came in sight they saw that one of the two cottages was burning, and as they reached them he cried, ‘ There’s been a regular fight for it. The noise they made at Smith’s must have woke these fellows. Look !’

It was evident that the two men had made a hard fight for their lives. A dead Maori, still grasping a bloodstained tomahawk, lay in front of one shanty, and the door had been literally smashed in. Forcing back the ruins Jack stepped inside. Amongst his thrown-down barricade lay a young man hacked and mutilated by a dozen tomahawks. The body of the other man had been dragged some distance from his burning home. ‘ Oh !’ said Harry, ‘ if we only had a score of good, wellarmed fellows here.’

‘ Well, we haven’t,’ said Jack, ‘ they’re doing their devil’s work at Matawhero now. We’ve done all we can, and we’d better get back if we want to save our h’own lives.’ ‘ God help them !’ said Harry, glancing back. ‘Oh ! if only we could have come sooner !’

Over paddock and swamp they retraced their steps as swiftly as they had come, awestruck and silent with the horrors of the night, and plunged into the tall ti-tree again. As they emerged once more behind Jack’s house they saw that the sky was covered with a rosy light to herald the rising sun, and a soft breeze laden with the sweet odour of the cabbage tree flowers came blowing over the river.

Alfred was the first, and as he reached the open he gave an exclamation of terror ; and well he might, for the Hauhaus were before them. They had finished their cruel work at Matawhero, and, on foot and horseback, had come down to Patutahi, murdering and plundering on their way, hoping to find the ford settlers still sleeping. ‘ Get back !’ he gasped, but it was too late. They were seen, and with a fierce shout the Hauhaus came running towards them, first sending a shower of bullets. ‘ The water, into the water,’ cried Alfred, and set the example by plunging in. He was a splendid swimmer, and tuining on his side swam with one arm only, with the other holding his musket out of water. In a few moments he reached the other side, and giving one backward glance to see that his comrades were following, be plunged into the friendly shelter of the bush that grew thick and close not a hundred yards back from the liver. When Jack saw the Hauhaus advancing on them he turned and fired with good ellect, for the foremost went

down, and then threw his musket in the river liefore him. * I can’t take it over,’ he said, and drawing his ‘ pig sticker ’ from its sheath, he took it between his teeth and plnnged into the water, followed by Harry, who made an attempt to carry his giln as Alfred had done, but finding himself unable, was obliged to let it go to the bottom and give all his strength to reaching the other side. They had barely passed the middle of the river when the Hauhaus came up to the bank behind them, yelling like fiends and began firing on them as they swam, while a few ran up to the ford to cross and run down and meet them with their tomahawks as they landed. Jack reached the other side first, unharmed by the bullets that splashed aronnd him, and grasping a flax blade above him, he swung himself all diipping up the bank, when Harry who was still some yards out, gave a sharp cry. Jack heard him. and he heard the Hauhaus give a savage shout of triumph. He looked back. Harry was swimming with short hurried strokes, and making but slow progress, for he was hit in the shoulder and the blood was flowing fast.

Jack glanced at the bush where lay comparative safety, and he glanced at the Maoris crossing the ford. How long would it take them to reach the spot where he stood ? and he looked at the muskets across the river, and then at Harry’s white face above the water.

‘ Hold up ! he cried and dropped back into the water. With a few strong strokes he reached his young comrade’s side. ‘Catch ’old o’ me !’ he said, and Harry obeyed with a gasp, and a look in his eyes that said far more than words.

They reached the shore, and Jack dragged him up the bank. Oh ! for a moment more, to reach the bush where there was some chance for hiding, or escape, but the Hauhaus were upon them. ‘Run !’ Jack shouted, as a dozen savage, half-dresssed fellows dashed through the bushes. The two young men sprang forward, but it was too late. Harry fell, mortally wounded. Desperate and heartsick, Jack closed with the foremost Hatthau. With set teeth and his knife grasped in his hand, he uttered an oath as the other savage assailed him ; and then a brief, fierce fight began. With foot and hand he strove beside poor Harry, but he was only one against a number, and in less time than it takes to tell he lay full length, with his face pressed to the earth.

The murderers left them there, and went back to join the others at the ford, having pressing business on hand to pursue and overtake the settlers who had escaped them. The two brave men lay still and silent side by side, with their life blood staining the young grass, but as the Hauhaus, voices grew more distant, Harry moved and then raised himself slowly to his knees supported by one hand. His face was ghastly pale ; he drew his hand tremulously across his eyes. In the distance, through the bushes he saw the Maoris crossing and collecting about the ford, and he saw another party come riding down from the direction of Matawhero, and he recognised Te Kooti in the chief at their head. He watched with strained eager eyes and saw them ride away inland. Inland ! then Hugh and Damaris and all were saved.

‘Thank God!’ he muttered, and sank down again with his face on his arm. He turned his eyes towards his comrade. ‘ Jack,’ be whispered, faintly, and stretched out one hand and touched him. ‘Jack!’ but Jack would never speak or move again on earth. When Harry realised that, he laid his face down on his arms and spoke no more. And then the long day began, and the great world of nature went on just as it did before. The sun shone, and the

soft wind sighed through the open doors of silent desolated homes, and a blue river smiled back at a bluer sky, just as though earth's children had not risen up, one against the other, like Cain and Abel of old. And the buds of yester day blossomed forth, and the sparrows Hew from roof to roof, wondering, perhaps, that no voices or footsteps echoed below them.

And night came down—down on the river, bush, and sea, and down upon the ruined settlement and smouldering houses, and the murdered settlers, who but yesterday laughed and talked, and rejoiced in all the sights and sounds of spring. Night came down and the windows wont to shine so brightly were black and blank, and the ashes of last night’s fire lay chill in the grate. It was quite dark when a little creature came slowly over the ford—a little black and tan dog. He put his nose to the ground and began wandering up and down, to and fro seeking for his master. His search was rewarded for he found two prostiate forms lying on the grass already damp with the evening dew. That was not his master’s, that pale cold face, with the open glassy eyes turned up to the heavens. He turned toward the other form, and laid his nose on that ice-cold hand - that loved hand which would never again strike or caress him. His seaich w’as ended, and he laid himself down with a little appealing whine, and began his long, long watch beside the dead. It was twilight, that quiet, dreamy hour before the lamps were lighted, and Damaris sat by an open window with her chin in her hand, looking out across the bay. She sighed as she gazed, and thought of those days that seemed so long ago already, those quiet happy days before that terrible haunting night alarm, and the wild terror stricken Hight in the grey of morning. And she thought of that day when she stood amongst the bereaved and weeping women and children on the deck of the schooner that had brought them all to Napier, and waved her hand to one on the shore, one who was fighting now perhaps up there where their happy homes had been.

‘ Aunt Damaris,’ said a little voice, and Jessie came softly into the room and mounting her aunt’s knee, she leaned upon her shoulder and followed her eyes across the grey dreary sky and sea.

‘ Aunt Damaris !’ • Yes, dearie.’ ‘ Why doesn’t Uncle Harry come home !’said the little girl, with a sigh. ‘ I want him so much, so much.’ ‘ Never mind, dearest,’ said Aunt Damaris, gravely. ‘ Perhaps papa will be home soon, and Mr North.’ ‘ I don’t want papa much. I like Uncle Harry better. Auntie, when do you think he’ll come?’

‘ I don’t know, dear,’ was all Damaris could say. ‘ When I ask mamma she says “ to-morrow,” and every night I come in here and have a long, long look over the sea, and some day I’ll see him coming in a boat, and I’ll run down to meet him, and he’ll carry me upon his shoulders, and oh ! we’ll be so happy.’

Alas, for hope! Damaris turned away her head and looked across the sea. She knew when the boat of Jessie’s hopes would come; when her ‘to-morrow’ would dawn, and as she looked, she saw through her tears a last red gleam from the sinking sun, brighten for a moment the leaden sea and sky. It seemed like, and it was, a true emblem of the brighter days coming, when peace was restored and the grass was growing over the giaves.

Alice Kenny.